


And They Were Drift Compatible

by Blizzard_Drift (Blizzard_Fire)



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Bodyswap, Humor, M/M, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-15 14:08:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28939707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blizzard_Fire/pseuds/Blizzard_Drift
Summary: Newt doesn't think he'll ever have a soulmate. But then he wakes up Swapped in Hermann's body, and they have to play the part to avoid discovery. Luckily, they know each other better than anyone.
Relationships: Newton Geiszler/Hermann Gottlieb
Comments: 13
Kudos: 74





	And They Were Drift Compatible

**Author's Note:**

> So I was playing with some ideas for an Avengers/Pacific Rim crossover (I write a lot of Bruce Banner stuff ordinarily) and I just. Absolutely fell for Newt Geiszler and had to get some Newmann out of my system. I'm about 8 years late to the party but hopefully there's still some fandom around! <3
> 
> I'm posting this under my new pseud Blizzard_Drift, which I plan to use for any future PacRim fics :)

It started happening not long after the first opening of the Breach: people waking up in someone else’s body. Only a tiny proportion of the population, and seemingly at random. Sometimes the two people were married, sometimes they were from opposite sides of the globe and didn’t speak the same language. For twenty-four hours, they would remain like this before switching back the next morning.

The media called them soulmates. No one knew for sure, but one thing was certain: these pairs of people were always highly Drift compatible.

It was how they’d recruited most of their jaeger pilots in the initial phases, when Drift tech was in its infancy. If Newt hadn’t found the idea of soulmates nauseating, he might have described it as romantic.

‘Dude,’ Newt says one morning with a grin, ‘Did you hear? Mako and Raleigh got Swapped. Pentecost’s having an aneurysm.’

Hermann continues scratching at his chalkboard. ‘It’s no secret that they are highly Drift compatible, it was bound to happen eventually.’

‘Isn’t that wild, though? Like, they were always compatible, but only now, two weeks after they meet, they Swap?’ He’s pulling apart a Kaiju liver, scraping the contents into various beakers. Maybe he’ll set one on fire, just for fun. Hermann always moans about the smell.

Hermann shrugs. ‘Swapping has no pattern. It happens only once, but it can happen at any time.’

Newt tries to imagine waking up in someone else’s body. He smirks. ‘I bet the sex is _wild._ I’d totally grow boobs for a day if I could bang Raleigh.’

Hermann sighs. ‘Must you be so crass? In any case, that isn’t how it works. You’d be… _having relations_ with yourself.’

Newt laughs. ‘Oh, I do that every night anyway.’ He’s pleased to see Hermann’s ears turning red. ‘I’d totally go fuck myself. Literally.’

‘Newton?’

‘Yeah, Herms?’

‘Shut up.’

Silence descends over the lab, broken only Hermann’s chalk scribblings and the occasional squish of Kaiju guts. Newt’s often wondered what it would be like – and what the consequences would be. What if you don’t like your “swapmate”? What if you wake up as a stranger and can’t find a way to tell them who you are and lose them forever? Newt’s never been good at keeping friends, let alone meaningful relationships. The whole thing sounds like a lot of pressure.

‘What if,’ Newt says sometime later, ‘you died in someone else’s body while you were Swapped? Would you stay Swapped or would you come back to life?’

Hermann is sat at his computer, cane propped against the desk. ‘I hardly think you need to worry,’ he says. ‘Most people can barely tolerate you; I highly doubt you’d be Drift compatible with anyone.’

‘Gee, thanks.’ He sulks, poking half-heartedly at a lump of guts and fantasising about stuffing a cold chunk of it down the back of Hermann’s shirt. ‘Well, _you_ tolerate me. So there.’

‘Barely. And only because I am required to.’ Newt wonders if he hears the faintest hint of fondness in Hermann’s tone, but when he looks over his lab partner is frowning like always.

Newt puts his headphones on and drowns out Hermann’s chalk scrapings with angry rock music, and after dissecting a lung and two livers he’s feeling cheerful again. Hermann seems pricklier than usual today, but he’s not about to ask why. The grumpy bastard probably wouldn’t tell him anyway.

At 11pm sharp, Hermann stands up. ‘Perhaps you’ll Swap with a Kaiju,’ he says thoughtfully, hovering in the open door, ‘since you love them so much.’

‘If I did, I would make sure that only _your_ side of the lab got ruined,’ Newt bites back, even though the idea _does_ sound kind of cool, actually. ‘ _And_ I’d totally still have sex with myself!’

A group of recruits choose that moment to walk past and eye him through the open door.

‘Of course you would,’ Hermann sneers, ‘because it’s the only action you’d be likely to get.’

Newt rolls his eyes. ‘Goodnight to you, too.’

Hermann’s scowl softens slightly. ‘Try to sleep before 3am for heaven’s sake, we have work to do here.’

‘Yeah yeah, whatever.’ He stares at his samples until the door clicks shut, then gets up with a sigh. He _is_ a little tired. Probably from staying up until 3am last night. And 4am the night before. But Hermann doesn’t need to know that.

Carefully, he replaces all his samples in the lab fridge. The pressure is always on them to produce results, and Pentecost has been breathing down their necks more often than usual. With his adopted daughter currently in the body of a man he disapproves of, no wonder he’s pissed. Newt leaves the lab at 11:45, pleased to have a new bedtime record for the week.

As he throws a pile of laundry on the floor and strips off before climbing into bed, Newt allows himself to wonder if it’ll ever happen to him (slim though that chance may be). Knowing his luck, he’d Swap with someone who thought Kaiju study was a waste of time. Or even worse, someone who’s never watched _Godzilla._

He dreams that he’s Swapped with Pentecost, doomed to march around in a smart suit, whilst Pentecost walks around as Newt and Hermann likes him better and then there’s a Kaiju attack and the Kaiju has Newt’s face –

He wakes up with a jolt, his blood pounding in his ears. Blindly, he gropes along the floor for his glasses, but they aren’t there.

Newt is in a room he’s never seen before.

‘Um.’ He looks down, expecting to see a stranger sleeping next to him – did he get drunk last night? – but there’s no one else here. The sheets are clean and fresh ( _definitely_ not Newt’s room), the desk by the window is spotless and devoid of clutter, and the thick books on the shelf are ordered by height.

What really scares him though, is that he’s wearing someone else’s pyjamas.

They’re pale blue, buttoned up to the throat, with matching pants, and ew why is he wearing _socks in bed?_

‘Oh my god,’ Newt says, and his voice comes out too deep. ‘Oh my god what the fuck is going on.’ He knows what’s happened: he’s Swapped. He could be on any continent, he could be a serial killer…

Newt rolls over and stands up, then immediately crashes to the floor. Pain flares up his leg, his knee throbbing. ‘Motherfucker!’

That’s when he spots the cane leaning against the wall.

Slowly, he manages to pull himself back onto the bed, and from there he gropes along the wall until he makes it into the bathroom. ‘Please, no…’ he mutters, taking a deep breath and then looking into the mirror.

Hermann Gottlieb looks back at him, pale-faced and red-eyed.

Newt lurches to the toilet and throws up.

He allows himself five minutes of freaking out before he starts wondering what to do. The Swap will end in twenty-four hours – less, since he Swapped whilst asleep – so he could just stay in this room until they change back. Then they can never speak of this and it will be fine.

Oh god, Newt slept naked last night. Hermann’s probably having a fit right now. If Newt reacted badly to finding out that Hermann is his – _you know –_ then Hermann’s probably feeling it ten times worse, since he hates him and all that.

But then Newt remembers that Pentecost was going to pay them a visit today. Newt doesn’t want to get on his bad side, and besides, he wants another chance to persuade him to fund the Kaiju-Drift project that is _absolutely going to work, fuck you Hermann._

‘It’s fine, this is fine,’ he mutters to himself, finally leaving the bathroom. If he doesn’t move too fast, he can walk okay on his bad leg. ‘Step one: find Hermann – er, me.’ And to do that, he needs to get dressed.

Great.

Hermann’s wardrobe is depressingly monochrome: sweater vests and black blazers and cardigans. He picks out the most boringly-Hermann outfit he can find and gets dressed with his eyes tight shut. This body will take some getting used to: whilst Newt is all soft edges and frizzy hair, Hermann is angular, with skinny arms and bony elbows and man is it weird being taller.

Newt makes it to the door, nearly falls again, then grabs the cane. Hermann will hate him even more if he breaks an arm or leg whilst in his body.

It’s early morning, so no one stops to talk to him as he limps over to his own room and bangs on the door. ‘Hermann, you in there? It’s me!’

There’s a muttered curse, then scuffling feet. The door opens and Newt’s looking at himself. ‘Get in here,’ Hermann hisses, all but dragging him inside. ‘and keep your bloody voice down.’ His clipped English accent sounds absurd in Newt’s squeakier voice. ‘I suppose you think this is funny, do you?’

Newt laughs, a little hysterically. ‘Believe me, I hate this as much as you do.’ He walks over to the bed so he can sit down, then stops. ‘Hermann, did you – did you _tidy my room?’_

Hermann sniffs. ‘It was a pig stye.’

‘But those are _my_ things! I have a floordrobe, it’s a system – ‘

‘The smell of your socks was making me gag. I put them in the laundry basket.’

Newt blinks. ‘I have a laundry basket?’

‘Newton, you aren’t taking this seriously.’ Herman frowns, one hand curling awkwardly at his side. Clearly he wants to be tapping his cane on the floor right now. ‘Pentecost is meeting with us later and he’s likely to be in a foul mood. Perhaps we might be able to reschedule – ‘

‘Oh, so are we ignoring the whole being Swap buddies thing, then? Okay.’ Newt fiddles with the sleeves of his blazer. Too tight to roll the sleeves up. ‘And no, we can’t reschedule because Pentecost will murder us. Besides, I’ve actually got stuff to show him. Y’know, stuff that isn’t yet more predictions.’

Hermann bristles. ‘We are _not_ going down there like this. We’ll be a laughing stock. I refuse to let anyone see that we’re – we’re – ‘

‘Alright man, don’t have a stroke.’ Hermann has a point, but Newt really wants to pitch his project again. ‘Here’s what we do: we go straight to the lab and don’t talk to anyone, meet Pentecost, do what we gotta do, then go back to our rooms and wait for this nightmare to wear off.’

Hermann sighs and puts his face in his hands. He’s dressed himself in one of Newt’s shirts, though he’s done up the top button and the sleeves are rolled down. ‘This is going to end horribly,’ he says.

Newt taps him on the head with his cane. ‘That’s the spirit.’

They spend ten minutes ensuring their appearances are convincing. Newt’s Hermann-hair is still sleep-ruffled and no way would Newt ever wear his sleeves like that. After some more bickering about each other’s questionable fashion choices, they head out down the quiet, echoing corridors.

They make it to the lab unscathed, but Newt’s heart is pounding by the time they get there. He’s still reeling from the fact that Hermann’s his – that they’re Drift compatible. How can they be, when they argue all the time? Drift partners don’t throw Kaiju entrails at each other or leave passive-aggressive sticky notes on lab equipment. It just doesn’t make sense.

The plan is to tell Pentecost the truth, then proceed with the meeting as normal. What actually happens is a little more complicated.

Pentecost arrives ten minutes early and radiating cold fury. ‘Gentlemen,’ he says softly, ‘please tell me there have been further developments. Doctor Gottlieb?’

Newt stares blankly back at him for a long moment before he realises he’s talking to him. ‘Um. Yeah?’

‘I need your theories and I need them now. Let’s hear them.’

Newt shoots a panicked look over Pentecost’s shoulder and watches his own body fold his arms and shake his head with pursed lips. ‘Well, I…’ He swallows. He really doesn’t want to admit he’s not Hermann, and he also doesn’t feel like upsetting the leader of this whole operation.

So he draws himself up to full height, stiffens his jaw and tightens his grip on his cane. ‘All of my calculations point towards a double event, as I said before.’ It’s not hard to settle into the clipped, British English. Newt spends a lot of time mimicking him anyway. He’s dimly aware that Hermann’s jaw has dropped, but he doesn’t dare look over. ‘What’s more, I postulate that the Breach’s location is on the ocean floor, as opposed to somewhere mid-level. If you’ll look at the erm, algorithms I have drawn up – ‘ He gestures at the blackboard, rambling. It’s not the smartass version of what Hermann’s up to, but he knows the gist of it. He might pretend not to care about Hermann’s theories, but some of it is pretty awesome actually.

‘I see.’ Pentecost looks over the blackboard critically.

Newt picks up the chalk then panics because he has six doctorates but none of them are in inter-dimensional mathematics… then he realises that no one else can understand the written calculations either. He writes a few squiggles for good measure. ‘I shall send you the report later.’ Inside, he’s singing. A fucking masterful performance, if he says so himself.

Pentecost turns away. ‘Alright. Doctor Geiszler, what have you got?’

Newt clears his throat. ‘Actually, Newt here was just telling me about his Kaiju-Drift project and I really think it’s going to work – ’

‘Why don’t we let the Doctor speak for himself?’

Hermann blinks back owlishly and oh god, there’s no way this is going to work. But then…

It’s like a switch flicks in Hermann’s head. His shoulders hunch, he leans his hip against the desk, he straightens his glasses, and he smirks. ‘See Herms, was that hard?’ The accent’s not perfect, but it’s scarily good. ‘About my project – ‘

Pentecost sighs. ‘Drifting with a Kaiju brain is far too dangerous. It wouldn’t work.’

Hermann laughs. ‘Yeah, actually I’ve changed my mind. Hermann here actually helped convince me.’ And he _winks_ at Newt.

Newt steps forward. ‘Funny, you seemed pretty _convinced_ about it earlier. Why don’t you tell him about the simulation you ran which suggested that – ‘

‘Newton,’ says Hermann sharply, then pales. ‘I mean – is your name Newton? No. So let me talk.’ He adjusts his glasses uncomfortably. ‘I will not debate you further about the Drifting. But I _do_ have something I wanna show you.’

Newt looks on in amazement. He’s a little annoyed to miss out on the chance to argue his case and he _does_ have evidence that it will maybe work, but it’s almost worth it to watch himself in action. Hermann’s got his mannerisms down: the pacing, the hand gestures, the way his voice gets squeakier when he gets excited…

‘And not only that, but everything about their genetic makeup suggests that they’re synthetically-made. If you look here…’ Yes, the samples Hermann points to are incorrect, but he’s got Newt’s theory almost word-perfect. Newt had never realised that Hermann actually _listened_ when he spoke his thoughts aloud. He’s oddly touched.

Miraculously, they make it through without Pentecost suspecting anything. There’s a sticky moment when Newt calls Hermann “dude”, but Hermann saves him with a sarcastic comment. When Pentecost finally leaves, Hermann hurries over to lock the door and they both breathe a sigh of relief.

‘That was – pretty good,’ says Newt.

‘I didn’t know you understood my theories,’ says Hermann.

‘Good thing I’m smarter than I look, right?’ Newt avoids his eyes and plays with a piece of chalk, watching the dust powder his pale hand. ‘Didn’t think you cared about my work.’

‘I think what you’re doing is important, even if I don’t approve of the way you go about it.’ Hermann is back to being Hermann, all straight-backed and stern-eyed. ‘You _will_ kill yourself if you attempt to Drift with a Kaiju, do you realise that?’

Newt pulls up a stool at his desk and looks down at his beloved samples. ‘How the hell can we be Drift compatible?’ he mutters, running a hand through his too-short hair.

Hermann sits down beside him, looking chagrined when his shorter legs don’t reach the floor. ‘Is it really so hard to believe?’

‘I don’t know.’ He absentmindedly sketches out a Kaiju in chalk. ‘We argue all the time. I wouldn’t have thought of us as being – you know.’ Out of all the people in the world, the universe had paired him with Hermann. In a way he was disappointed, but yet was he truly surprised?

‘Newt,’ says Hermann, ‘you realise that I don’t hate you?’

Newt looks up. ‘Well, yeah, I guess, but – ‘

‘We are of similar intellect, so we understand each other better than most…’

‘Wow. You’re complimenting me. What’s going on?’

‘…even though we come from different scientific backgrounds and your methods are considerably more… _haphazard_ and dangerous…’

‘Oh, you were doing so well.’ Newt frowns down at the table. It feels weird to wear someone else’s glasses, someone else’s skin, to feel a different set of teeth against his tongue, but he knows Hermann the best out of anyone he’s met. And okay, maybe sometimes he thinks about kissing him just to shut him up but it’s not like he’d ever _act_ on it. Theirs is a strange relationship: they bicker constantly and yet Newt doesn’t know what he’d do if Hermann left.

Hermann grasps his hand. ‘Being Drift compatible does not mean you always get along. It means you understand each other, deeply and completely.’

Newt stares down at their hands, noting absently that his tats look cool from this angle. Yet when he dares to look up, he still sees Hermann looking back behind his eyes. ‘So you’re not mad?’

Hermann sighs. ‘I am frustrated, but not mad, no. Perhaps there is something poetic in this; to know without uncertainty that we are – well, we are – ‘

Newt kisses him. His brain immediately goes _bad idea bad idea_ because he’s kissing his own mouth and it’s really weird and – oh shit, Hermann is going to kill him for this. He didn’t think it through and he’s high off adrenaline and stress…

Hermann kisses him back for all of two seconds, then he leaps off the stool too fast and overbalances, falling in an undignified heap on the floor.

Newt winces. ‘Please don’t break my spine, dude.’

‘What do you think you’re playing at?’ Hermann rolls over on his back like a turtle before scrambling up, face scarlet. ‘Do you think this is a joke?’

‘Well, _you_ weren’t gonna do it!’ says Newt defensively. ‘I thought we were having a moment. Forget it.’ He tries to stand up and storm off, but Hermann beats him to it. ‘Hermann! Just – just hold up, okay?’ He grabs for the cane but it clatters away. ‘I was getting mixed signals, I’m sorry.’

Hermann unlocks the door and flings it open. He throws a glance over his shoulder, and Newt has never seen his own face look so hurt. ‘That’s your problem, Geiszler. You can never leave well enough alone.’

And then Newt is left alone. He stares at the door long after it has swung shut, feeling tears welling up in his eyes. ‘Fucking moron,’ he spits, pressing a hand to his forehead. ‘What did you think was gonna happen? Stupid, stupid.’ And yet Hermann is all around him; he only needs to look down to see his silly frumpy outfit, the hands he’s twisting together that are pale and long-fingered. In almost every way, Newt and Hermann are opposites. Loud and quiet, pale and vibrant, extrovert and introvert.

And yet.

In a way, they compliment each other. They bicker all the time, but there’s no genuine hate in it. Hermann’s right: they understand each other. So where did he go wrong?

Newt’s halfway back to his room when he realises that he doesn’t have the key, and he really doesn’t want to face Hermann right now. When can this nightmare be over?

In the end, he finds the key to Hermann’s room in his pocket and lets himself in. The place is empty; he can wait it out here and wake up tomorrow as his usual self. Minus his dignity.

His leg still aches from this morning. Maybe that’s why Hermann gets so grumpy sometimes. Maybe all the talk about Raleigh and Mako Swapping upset him too? Newt never saw Hermann as the romantic type.

After rummaging through Hermann’s tidy desk, he finds a notebook and writes an awkward apology (it takes him several tries, and many trips to the wastepaper basket). In the end he settles for:

_Hey Hermann,_

_I’m really sorry about what happened. I promise I won’t mention it again. Please don’t report me for sexual harassment, I’ll even keep my Kaiju samples on my side of the lab! For at least a week, anyway._

_Also, who keeps a mini chess set in the bathroom? Not judging, just genuinely curious. Okay, judging you a little. But you can totally mock my Kaiju action figure collection if you want. That makes us even, right?_

_Please don’t hate me._

_Newt_

He sits down on the edge of the bed and feels something hard under the covers. It’s Hermann’s phone.

Newt looks around furtively, even though he’s the only one here. He’s already pissed Hermann off enough, what more damage could he do? He enters the passcode: 3141 (of _course_ it’s Pi, because Hermann is a Nerd) and then he’s in.

The last thing Hermann looked at was… Newt’s latest paper? No, that can’t be right. And yet it is, and he was halfway through reading it. Newt’s arguments for Kaiju originating in a pollution-heavy atmosphere, all laid out in black and white. Hermann has never mentioned reading any of his recent studies.

Intrigued, Newt scrolls through his recent tabs. News articles, a blog post about growing your own herbs, a YouTube compilation of cats being scared of cucumbers…

Newt’s Wikipedia page is on here too. And the video interview he did last year for a K-science magazine. He never bothered to watch it back, so he does so now, scrolling through the comments. Most are positive, but there are always a few haters. Like this one from Spite-o-Plankt0n:

_Clearly this guy doesnt kno anything!! just trying to look cool by throwing kaiju guts around – clearly doesnt get any actual work done. Glad the government is funding “”biologists”” like this one and trusting them to SAVE THE PLANET. What kind of scientist calls themselves newt, anyway??_

A few comments below agree with him, and also make some rude comments about his appearance. What catches his eye though, is the most recent comment at the end of the thread:

_Dr Geiszler is one of the leading biologists of our generation. I have had the honour of working alongside him for many years and I can confirm that he is highly knowledgeable and dedicated to his work. His methods may be frowned upon in the wider community, but he is the best asset K-science has. I suggest you actually read some of his work before leaving yet another underhanded comment on one of his videos._

Newt gapes. The username is HGot89. ‘You sneaky bastard,’ he murmurs. ‘You followed all my work and you never told me?’ Just like Hermann to never deliver a compliment to Newt’s face. The comment is dated from yesterday morning – _that’s_ why Hermann was in such a bad mood?

He opens up the contacts list, dithering over whether to send a text. Hermann’s probably too much of a gentleman to poke through Newt’s phone even if he sent one.

Hermann only has a handful of contacts. Newt is the only one who has a caller ID and he recognises it immediately. It’s the selfie Newt took when he stole Hermann’s phone: a blurry, unflattering shot of Newt’s grinning face, with an eye-rolling Hermann in the background. So maybe he _does_ have a sense of humour under there.

No point thinking about it now. Newt plucks up the courage to use the bathroom (again, with his eyes closed) and then slumps into bed, fully-clothed. Whatever. Hermann can gripe about his crumpled shirt tomorrow all he likes, if indeed he talks to Newt at all.

They’re soulmates. Fuck. It’s not the word Newt would ever speak aloud, but there it is. As much as Newt can’t stand him sometimes, Hermann is the one constant in his life and sometimes he’s the only reason Newt drags himself out of bed in the morning. Platonic or not, he really does care about Hermann. He doesn’t want to lose him over this.

Sleep is a long time coming, and this time he does not dream.

Newt wakes up on his back, the covers pulled tight against his throat. He grunts and throws them off, rubbing his eyes. He’s back in his room and – oh thank god, back in his own body. He’s wearing a faded band t-shirt and boxers, which means Hermann undressed him… but he’s still wearing socks.

 _And_ Hermann’s tidied his room. Freak.

Newt wanders into the bathroom, grateful to see his own face blinking back at him. There’s a sticky note on the mirror, written in Hermann’s neat cursive:

_Newton,_

_I apologise for my behaviour in the lab. I didn’t want to acknowledge how important you have become to me, and I don’t like not knowing all the variables in advance._

_We need to talk. After all this is over. I don’t want this to cause a rift between us._

_Hermann_

_PS: I would prefer it if you warned me before trying something like that again._

“Again”? Newt reads it three times in growing disbelief. Does he mean…?

There’s a knock at the door. Shit. He grabs his glasses off the desk and hurries over, heart pounding.

Hermann is looking down at his feet, jaw clenched. ‘I’m glad we are… back to normal,’ he says hesitantly.

‘Yeah, me too.’ Newt folds his arms and leans against the doorframe. ‘I still think your chess set is weird.’

Hermann sighs. ‘I – I like to re-enact famous chess games. It helps me think.’ He looks so prim and sad and so very _Doctor Gottlieb_ that Newt can’t help it. He laughs.

Hermann finally raises his head to give him a grumpy look.

‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry! You’re just so – oh my god, you’re fucking adorable. Please can I kiss you again?’

The question actually knocks Hermann back half a step, his eyes widening. ‘You’re joking, aren’t you? You’re – you’re not joking?’

Newt just grins back at him, shaking his head. ‘See, if you’d hung around a little longer and let me finish… I know how much you hate listening to me lecture, but – ‘

‘Oh, be quiet.’ A smile tugs at the corner of Hermann’s mouth. He closes the distance between them and kisses him. It’s a soft, hesitant thing but it makes Newt’s insides go warm and syrupy and it ends with his arms around Hermann’s slim waist. ‘You are – utterly incorrigible.’ But there’s no heat in it, only fondness. Hermann’s blushing as he shyly strokes Newt’s cheek. ‘However am I going to put up with you now?’

‘Oh, you’ll find a way.’ Newt pulls him inside before someone walks past and sees them out here. Not that he’d mind, of course. ‘Drift compatible, huh? That’s hot.’ He remembers that he’ll still in just his t-shirt and boxers, but whatever. Hermann dressed him like this so he’s not about to change.

Hermann looks openly fond, and happily melts into his embrace when Newt hugs him. ‘Yes, I suppose it means we could be jaeger pilots.’ He chuckles. ‘I can’t see you fighting a Kaiju, more likely you’d just want to get up close so you could _pet_ one.’

‘It would be awesome and you know it. Wait! Oh my god!’ He pulls back. ‘We could Drift together! With the Kaiju brain! If we shared the neural load it would reduce the danger of – ‘

‘Newton,’ Hermann says sternly, ‘I care for you very deeply. Forgive me if I don’t want to see you get killed by a semi-sentient chunk of Kaiju meat. Or myself, for that matter.’

‘Fine.’ Newt sighs theatrically, then reaches up to ruffle Hermann’s neatly-combed hair just because it’s still fun to annoy him. ‘Guess you’ll have to find a way to keep me _distracted_ from my work, then.’

There’s a glint in Hermann’s eye. ‘Good idea. Put your clothes on.’

‘I – what?’ Newt gestures at his bare legs. ‘Isn’t that the opposite of what I should be doing?’

‘Not at all.’ Already, he’s hobbling to the door. ‘We have an hour before we’re needed in the lab. I propose we go for a coffee.’ How very Hermann: endearing, yet endlessly frustrating.

‘Well, fine, if you wanna be classy about it.’ Newt wiggles into a pair of jeans and grabs his jacket. Then he steps up to Hermann and offers his arm. ‘Doctor Gottlieb, would you do me the honour of drinking an average-at-best beverage in the mess hall?’

There’s no hiding the smile on Hermann’s face, as much as he tries to. He takes Newt’s arm, with those long fingers that are now as familiar to him as his own. ‘I would like that very much, Doctor Geiszler.’

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on Tumblr @superblizzardfire for Bruce Banner stuff, and @superblizzarddrift for Newt Geiszler stuff! Juggling 2 hyperfixations is hard.


End file.
